What Kind of Love: Stories from StarStorm
by Natchez
Summary: So J'fren and Trina finally meet. Now what?
1. Chapter 1: Blue and Lonesome

**A/N: **Back, finally. Real life has been intervening. This story picks up where "All About to Change" leaves off. As always, thank you to all who have reviewed, and continue to read and review my work. I truly appreciate your time and your thoughts. I hope you enjoy the latest in "Stories from StarStorm."

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or operate Pern.

**What Kind of Love...**

StarStorm Weyr, Landing

It never failed. Every time the Weyr had a Hatching, Trina was depressed for days. Although she had been properly Searched, the dragon who belonged to her had never Hatched. So, she continued in the Lower Caverns, teaching the youngsters, plying her talent of embroidery and helping to keep the life of a busy Weyr flowing smoothly. Not that anyone ever noticed--it wasn't as though she had any real significance. She was just a nobody.

"Watch out, Trina," said Bini. "Looks like J'fren is on the prowl."

Trina looked up to the tables to see the brownrider sitting, absently picking at the remains of his lunch, and smiling at those who passed him. "So?" she said. "How under the moons can you tell?" Bini was obviously taunting her again.

"See the looks he's giving the girls today. He's obviously feeling a little lonesome again." Her tone was lascivious. J'fren had no weyrmate--hadn't had one that Trina knew of—and only occasionally did he chat up a female for the purpose of having her in his furs for a night or two. And rumor had it those nights were memorable ones. As a result, many of the Weyr's unattached women were always scheming to get his attention.

Trina shook her head. "You try for him, then. I'm not making a fool out of myself." She had more or less resigned herself to a single life. Men never noticed her. A face in the crowd, that's what she was. And not much of a face, at that. She turned back to the hearths.

But Bini was right: J'fren _was_ feeling lonesome. But this was a different lonesome than the usual biological urges. He really just wanted someone to talk to -- someone to laugh with. Someone not male and not a dragon.

_"That's mean!"_ Shimuth said indignantly.

"I'm sorry, Shimuth. You know I didn't mean it like that," he replied to his dragon.

_"I know. But I do have feelings, you know."_

"Yes, I realize you do."

And he could use some stimulating company. Then, he noticed her for the first time--really noticed her. Who was that girl standing by the hearth? She was attractive enough, even though he could hear some of the other women telling her to move her "fat rear end" out of their way. He knitted his brows. She wasn't THAT big. Besides, as he had gotten older, J'fren had learned that looks and size were not of paramount importance when thinking about a woman as a friend or a weyrmate.

She looked fairly young, mid 20s maybe, and had brown hair she wore in a plaited crown. He couldn't see her eyes, but had a feeling they might be brown, too. About his height, well, that was nice, and what about her smile? He hadn't seen one on her face. Let's see if he still had enough charm to wheedle a smile out of her.

_"Oh please, as if you didn't know you do,"_ came Shimuth's tart comment, which J'fren studiously ignored. He rose and brought his plate and cutlery to the hearth where the girl was standing. She turned to him, with a -- startled -- look on her face?

"Can I help you?" she said. Nice voice, well-modulated, sweet accent.

"Well, I thought I'd save you some steps and bring my plate over here," he said, flashing her his best grin.

Trina's heart seemed to turn over in her chest when J'fren grinned like that -- and at her. She couldn't seem to breathe for a moment and then said, "Thanks. I appreciate it," and followed it up with a small smile.

The brownrider cocked his head at her and said, "Come on, my dragon gives a better imitation of a smile than that."

Trina laughed in spite of herself, showing a nice smile of her own. J'fren said, "That's better. Your smile is too pretty to hide."

"Thank you," she said, shyly.

"You're welcome. Come sit with me and talk." Before Trina knew it, J'fren had taken her hand and led her to his table. He sat and pulled her down to sit beside him, waving her protests aside.

"Now then -- what's your name?"

"Trina."

"Pretty name. It has a musical ring to it."

"You think so?" she said, dubiously.

"I do. I'm J'fren. I ride brown Shimuth."

"It's nice to meet you." She noticed his shoulder knots, then. "You're a Wingsecond?" she said.

"Yeah, Center Watch Wing, but with such a huge Weyr as StarStorm, you can't know everyone. What do you do around here besides kitchen duty?" His dark eyes were interested and his smile was infectious.

"Oh, a little of everything. I teach the young ones and generally sort of help out. Anything anyone needs me to do, you know," Trina answered, feeling nothing but inadequate next to a dragonrider, and a ranking one, at that.

"A Weyr can't get along without people like you," he said gently.

Trina blushed scarlet and said, "I don't know. I'm really not important at all."

"Sure you are. I'll bet the last time you took sick, everyone wished like shells you were around to do all the little things you just automatically do. I'm sure you're always doing something to help out." Something about this girl made J'fren want to encourage her self-confidence. There was a shadow in her eyes that reached out to him and made his throat ache.

"Now you're just trying to get on my good side," she grinned, dispelling the sadness for just a moment.

"No, I'm being honest." He squeezed her hand. "I hear the Weyrsinger has a sheaf of new songs from the Harper Hall. He's going to teach them tonight after supper. Sit with me and we'll learn them together."

"All right, but I don't sing that well," Trina answered, wondering what kind of excuse he would come up with _not_ to be there. Well, she would just not be there first.

"Doesn't matter. If you're not around, I'll come find you," he said, smiling mischievously. "Thunk!" went her heart again.

"I'm sure you will," she said. _Liar_, she thought. _But at least he's being nice about it_.

* * *

The Weyrsinger had introduced the new songs and J'fren looked all over the Caverns for Trina, but didn't see her. She wasn't around at supper, either. He edged over to the hearths and peered into the darkness behind them.

"Can I help you, Wingsecond?" said a voice.

He turned to see one of the women and said, "Yes, have you seen Trina around this evening?"

The woman's hopeful expression faded into disgust and she said, "Yeah. She's helping with a birth."

"I didn't know she was a healer," J'fren answered.

"She's not. But she's willing, the healer needed an extra hand and asked her to assist."

"I see. Are they in the infirmary?" he asked.

"Last I heard. You can go in and wait to see her, if you want, I guess," said the woman.

"Thank you. I may do that."

J'fren left the main Caverns and went down the long hallway to the infirmary. There was a waiting area, where an anxious bronzerider was sitting -- obviously his weyrmate was being delivered.

"I just couldn't be in there," was all he said. J'fren could hear the sounds within: the healer giving instructions to the mother, and Trina's voice, calming, reassuring, sensible. Finally, the sound came everyone was waiting for: the lusty cry of a newborn. The new father went limp with relief in his chair. A few minutes later, the healer came out, carrying the baby, with Trina behind him.

"Mother and child are both fine," the healer said, and gave the man his first look at the baby. Trina was standing behind, grinning at the picture they made. She spotted J'fren and gave him a stunned look. She motioned him out in the hall.

"Mind if I ask what you're doing here?" she said.

"I told you I'd come find you if you weren't at supper," he answered.

"Well, I didn't think you were serious, and anyway, the healer needed someone to help."

J'fren gave Trina a shrewd look. "Why wouldn't I be serious?" he asked.

"Because you surely weren't -- were you?"

"I was, yes. You haven't eaten, have you?"

Trina shook her head, still eyeing him a little warily.

"All right. Let's go to the kitchens and find something."

"I might be needed somewhere," she said.

"Not likely. Those new parents are doing fine, and everyone else can wait a little while." He chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were afraid of me."

Trina was taken aback. "Afraid of you? No, not at all. I'm just not in the habit of associating with dragonriders. They usually don't take much notice of me."

"They don't know what they're missing," he said.

Shimuth broke in, "_Is _that _the best you can do?"_ he said

J'fren sent a silent "_Who asked you, anyway?"_ to his dragon.

_"I thought you might need some help, after that answer,"_ Shimuth replied.

Trina saw J'fren's face go suddenly intent and knew he was conversing with his dragon. He made an exasperated sound and rolled his eyes, then grinned at her.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Shimuth is full of himself tonight."

Trina chuckled. "That's all right. I understand."

"We were headed to the kitchens, weren't we?" he said.

"Yes."

"I missed the sweet course looking for you. S'pose they'll have any left?" J'fren asked.

"Maybe. They usually do," she answered.

"Good. My sweet tooth is a little active."

_"Something's active, but it's not your sweet tooth,"_ Shimuth interjected.

J'fren gave his head a little shake and didn't answer his nosy dragon.

As they reached the kitchens, they could still hear the sounds of singing, but Trina stopped at the main cooking hearth and grabbed some leftovers, including some of the sweet course for J'fren. They sat at one of the inside tables where the cooks ate. Everyone else was singing, and the cleanup had been done, so they were more or less alone, with the occasional drudge or worker wandering in and out. Trina was unaware that J'fren's interest in her whereabouts earlier had set the gossip tongues wagging. They figured she was the latest, although for the life of them, they couldn't see why.

They sat in the kitchen, some ways into the night, talking. But J'fren slept alone and so did Trina, although her thoughts centered around the brownrider. He was extremely attractive. No two ways about it -- those dark eyes and that grin were enough to turn a girl's head. But why he would be interested in _her_ was beyond her. Still...

* * *

J'fren sought Trina out every opportunity he had the next month. Even after his Flight fought Thread, he came to the Caverns to see her, and she knew he was completely worn out.

One night, he caught her after supper. "Hi there. Didn't you tell me your work section has the next few days off?"

Trina nodded. "Yeah. We've got four days off. Why?"

"I'm going to get out of here for a couple of days. Want to come with me?" he asked.

She was speechless for a moment. "W-where are you going?" she finally stammered

"Little place near Landing. Sun, sand and solitude. I'd really like you to come along." He gave her his most winning smile. It worked its usual magic on her heart and she said, "Well, I guess so."

"Fine. I'm planning on leaving midmorning tomorrow. Pack a few things and come to my office. We'll just leave from there."

"All right. I'll be ready to go," she said.

"Good then. I've got a Wing meeting in just a few minutes, so I've got to scoot, but I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you," Trina said, wondering what under the moons she had just agreed to.

A voice said behind her, "Well, it took him a little longer, but I see he finally has you where he wants you."

Trina turned to see the woman who gave her the most grief in the Caverns -- Dunan. "What in the world do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean J'fren. Usually, it doesn't take him nearly as long to get around to bedding a girl, but you must have presented a challenge. I have no idea why he wanted the likes of you, but I suppose a challenge is just that -- no matter how plain and unattractive it is." Dunan's tone was pure acid.

Trina knew Dunan herself had wanted the brownrider for a long time, but he had never shown any interest in her. So she just smiled and said, "Well, I'm told it's an unforgettable experience, and I'm open to that, so I guess you'll just have to keep wondering." And she walked off.

She packed her carisak, wondering what to take, but finally thought she had a decent assortment of what she might need for a trip to the beach.

She slept fitfully that night. She did wonder what his intentions were.


	2. Chapter 2: A Little Romance

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or operate Pern.

**Chapter 2: A Little Romance**

Shimuth stamped and snorted in his impatience to be off. J'fren laughed at him. "Easy, old boy. We'll get there soon enough."

_"I want to swim." _

"I know. We do love that warm water, don't we?" J'fren answered.

Trina was feeling decidedly odd as she watched the brownrider pack some necessities on Shimuth's back. So far, J'fren hadn't even touched her, except for taking her hand or a quick hug. "J'fren," she said, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

He turned to look at her. "I don't see why not. My Flight isn't due to fight for another four days. I've cleared it with my Wingleader, I'm caught up on my paperwork, for a wonder, no Thread is due to fall at Landing, and if something happens, Shimuth is as close as a shout. I need a day or two away from here, and I think you do too." He flashed that grin at her and once again, her heart went "ka-dunk!" inside her chest.

"I suppose you're right," Trina conceded.

"I usually am," he said, and winked at her. "All right, then. Ready to go?" Trina nodded. "Let's mount up, then." J'fren took her hand and assisted her to mount, as she stepped on Shimuth's helpful foreleg. She seated herself in front of the pack on Shimuth's back, which did make a comfortable backrest. J'fren adjusted his riding helmet. "I hate this thing," he said, and lightly hopped on to Shimuth's broad back. He checked to make sure Trina's riding straps were secure and gave his beast an affectionate slap on the shoulder. "Let's fly, Shimuth," he said.

The dragon crouched and his huge wings kicked up the dust on his downsweep. As they gained altitude, Trina gasped. It was only the second time she had flown a-dragonback.

_"J'fren says to hold on to him and to grip with your legs. You'll feel safer,"_ came Shimuth's voice in her mind.

"Thank you, Shimuth," Trina answered as she slipped her arms around the brownrider's waist. The close contact with his body was even more dizzying than the takeoff. They banked over the StarStones.

_"We go_ between," Shimuth said and blinked out. Cold, black _between _enveloped them as Trina forcibly reminded herself to count to three. Just as she reached three in her mind, they blinked back in over the pale sands of Landing. Trina had heard of Landing, of course, but had never seen it. As Shimuth banked over the blue sea, she sighed in delight at the view. They landed in a little cove, surrounded by lush fruit trees and where the water came softly into a lagoon. It was a lovely place, no doubt.

J'fren handed her down from Shimuth's back and said, "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she answered, causing J'fren to smile.

"It really is," he said, unpacking the bundle on his dragon's back and unbuckling the harness. The second it was fairly off, Shimuth nodded to his rider and made for the water. J'fren chuckled. "That old rascal. He'd stay in seawater up to his neck all day and all night if I'd let him. He wouldn't even come out to fight Thread!"

_"Not true," _retorted the dragon. "_I will always fight Thread."_ J'fren laughed again as he shared Shimuth's comment with Trina, who also laughed.

"Well, let's set up camp, shall we?" he said, and the next several minutes were involved in unpacking bundles and making a pleasant campsite. There was even a cold, freshwater spring close by. J'fren, she noticed, had several cooking conveniences, including a little grill and cook stand, some pans and even a small metal pot for making _klah_.

"You've done this a lot," Trina said.

He nodded. "Yeah. This is my hiding place. You're the first person I've ever brought here," he said.

"How did you find it?" she asked.

J'fren was sitting on the sand, making a firepit for cooking, and paused. A shadow came over his face. "Well, you know I was raised by my grandparents. They died, within just a few hours of each other, when I was 30. I needed a few days away, and my Wingleader suggested Landing. So, I came down here and looked around until I found this little spot. It's where I always come when I need to get out of the Weyr."

"I see."

"Well, let's imitate my dragon and have a swim. I brought meatrolls, bread and cheese, so we don't have to cook right away." His tone was lighter as he stood and stripped down to his skin, then ran to join his beast in the water.

Trina stood, a little stunned, as she slowly removed her shoes and wherhide trousers and jacket, leaving her in a light shirt and underwear.

J'fren popped up out of the water. "What are you waiting for?" he yelled. "Come on!"

Trina stood, undecided. Should she undress completely?

He seemed to read her mind when he said, "Don't be shy. Strip down. No one can see you but me and Shimuth! And Shimuth couldn't care less!"

Well, it wasn't the dragon's opinion she was looking for right then. Hesitantly, she undressed and scooted into the water as fast as she could. She stood on the other side of the dragon from his rider and splashed tentatively in the water.

"So swim!" J'fren said. "Have fun!"

Trina smiled a little ashamedly at him. "I can't swim," she said.

J'fren looked a little surprised. "No? Well, I'll teach you." He made his way over to her, gallantly ignoring her blushes as she caught sight of his body again.

"Can you float on your back?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've never tried."

"That's all right." He put his hand on her back and her knees went to jelly, even as she stood upright.

"Now then," he said, "Move over here where it's a little deeper and sort of kick off the sand with your foot, stretch out your arms and just float. Try it."

"What if I sink?"

"You won't sink. But I've got you in any case. Trust me on this one."

Trust him. Right. Nevertheless, Trina did as he instructed and kicked off the sand. She could feel his hands under her back as she went horizontal in the water—and stayed there. She was literally lying on top of the water.

J'fren took his hands away and she stayed afloat, as comfortably as if she were lying on a bed.

"Well, you can float, that's for sure," he chuckled.

"Umm-hmm," she answered, until she remembered that floating so exposed her entire body to his eyes. She started to flounder, and J'fren caught her and stood her up.

"What happened?" he said.

"Uh — I'm not sure. Lost my concentration, I suppose," she stammered.

He had a suspicion he knew why she lost her concentration, but knew better than to say as much. So he just said, "All right. Try it again."

Trina reddened again, confirming J'fren's suspicions, but did as he asked. As she floated, she closed her eyes, and he said, "Fine. Now let's try a backstroke." He instructed her in how to kick and move her arms in synch, and before long, she was paddling about the cove. She put out a hand on Shimuth's back to steady herself and came upright again.

J'fren was beside her. "You learn fast," he said.

"Good teacher," she replied.

He grinned at her and stepped closer to her. He took her chin in his hand and gave her a sweet, brief kiss. "Thanks for the compliment," he said and waded back to the beach. She stood a moment, watching him, and willing her heart to slow down a little. She followed him.

She went a little ways into the trees and dug some light shorts and a shirt out of her carisak. Donning them, she came back to the beach, where J'fren had put on a pair of shorts and was laying out their lunch on dishes and pouring wine into mugs.

Trina smiled at him, "I could have done that," she said.

He returned her smile and said, "You have to do this sort of thing all the time. Take a break."

She sat and accepted the plate he offered her. The meatrolls were fresh that morning and were fine with the bread and cheese. The wine was a good white — it seemed to complement the seaside view.

Lunch over, J'fren took his beltknife and cut some fruit off a couple of nearby trees and made short work of peeling and slicing a few, which he divided with Trina. He gave her a hand up and said, "Walk with me, and I'll show you some of the local points of interest." They walked up and down the beach, and into the jungle, as Shimuth made his wallow in the warm sand and napped.

Wild flits blinked in and out among the trees, their curiosity leading them to come and see the humans on their territory. Trina was lost in wonder at all the sights and sounds around her. A few paces on, and J'fren pointed to a huge tree trunk lying on the jungle floor. Fallen who knows how many Turns ago, it was the largest tree she had ever seen. He climbed atop it and helped her up, as well.

"This tree is simply enormous!" exclaimed Trina. "How old do you suppose it is?"

J'fren whistled. "I don't know. I've tried to count the rings a few times, but lost count. It's old, though." He took her hand. "Listen," he commanded.

Trina did listen, her ears taking in all the natural sounds around them. Still, it was much quieter than the Weyr. There were no other voices, no other familiar sounds, beyond the occasional screech of a wild flit. It was a little eerie, that quiet, but it was wonderful, as well.

The quiet continued for a few minutes, when J'fren finally spoke. "That's why I come here. I come for the silence and the peace and the solitude."

Trina nodded in understanding. "I can see why. It's so beautiful and restful. Such a change from the constant commotion at the Weyr."

"I have to get away from that, sometimes," J'fren said. "People think weyrlife is just one of ease and leisure."

"And we both know better than that," Trina chuckled.

"Don't we though?" he laughed. Turning a little serious, he asked, "I don't think I ever got around to asking you: how did you end up in the Lower Caverns? You're an intelligent, learned woman. Harper material, perhaps in the archives."

Trina shrugged. "Well, I was Searched when I was 16, and I stood for Faranth knows how many clutches, but no dragon ever chose me. I still get depressed around Hatching time. I don't know why I stay, sometimes. I suppose I'm just used to it. I can teach the young ones though, and I do find reward there."

J'fren slowly nodded. "Ever think of going back home?" he asked.

"No. Never." That was emphatic.

"Why?"

"Well, I have four brothers. Ma loves the boys, but has no use for me whatsoever. Pa and I always got along all right, but it wasn't enough to make me want to go back. And the Weyr said it would keep me as long as I wanted to stay, so here I am. Maybe I'll be Headwoman some day." Trina gave J'fren a half-smile. "But what about you? How did you come to the Weyr?"

"Oh, I was Searched when I was almost 16. I Impressed Shimuth the first try. My grandparents weren't very happy about losing me to the Weyr, but Pops was a Harper, you know, so he knew the game."

"Weren't they proud of you, though?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but you have to understand -- I'm all they had. My parents both died of firehead when I was just a few sevendays old. My dam's parents raised me."

"But what about your mother's brothers and sisters?"

"There were none." At Trina's startled look, he explained, "Nana had hard pregnancies. She lost three children before my mother was born. After that, she was barren. So, I'm the only one, and so was my mother. Strange, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. What about your father? Did he have siblings?"

"Oh sure," J'fren replied. "I think there were about 11 or 12 in all. But I'm not close to any of them. I never see them, and never did as a child. So, since Pops and Nana died, I've considered myself to be more or less alone in the world, except for Shimuth."

"Were you Searched at the Harper Hall?" She knew he played gitar.

"No, right at home at Rainy Shades Hold. Pops had been Hold Harper there for 30 Turns, and the Holder told him and Nana they had a home there for as long as they wanted one. They had many more friends there by then, than at the Harper Hall, so they stayed," J'fren explained. "And they were able to buy their little cot from the Holder. I was educated with the holder children at first, and then by Pops. He could have been a Master, but didn't want the headaches. I was musical and he was going to teach me as much as he could and then spring me on the Hall when I was 18, ready to take the Journeyman exams. And the MasterHarper let him because everyone loved Pops and had a hard time refusing him anything. I think he felt sorry for Pops, too, since I was all they had and the MasterHarper knew it would break their hearts to take me to the Hall when I was 10 or 12. And after all, everything they would train me to do, Pops was quite capable of teaching me -- and did teach me. But then I was Searched."

"Did you dream of having a bronze?"

J'fren thought for a moment. "After I'd been a Candidate about three sevendays and saw what they had to put up with, not really. Of course, I'd have taken one had one offered, but I'm that much like Pops. A brown suits me to the shell, just because of the lack of headaches." He grinned and turned to Trina. "But here I am, rattling on about myself. I want to find out more about you."

Trina smiled at him, even though he had asked her to talk about her least favorite subject. "Oh, there's not much to tell. I was Searched from home, too, but I had studied a great deal with the Hold Harper, especially the history of Pern and the archives, like you said. Ma was thrilled to rid herself of me to the Weyr. She practically threw me on the dragon's back. And I've been there ever since."

"Don't you get awfully lonely?" he asked, dark eyes full of compassion. "I mean, I've never seen you with anyone. At all."

"Well, yes, I do get lonely, but you're the first rider -- shards, almost the first man -- who's shown any kind of real interest." But that was an intensely painful topic, so she quickly added, "And you? Aren't you lonely, too?"

"Sometimes so much that it hurts."

"So why don't you have a weyrmate?" Then, realizing she might have offended him, said, "Oh, I was prying. I'm sorry."

He patted her hand. "No, you weren't prying at all. It's a natural question. I've had four weyrmates. Two were riders, two were Lower Caverns women. Every one ended badly. Saldia and Fralmith went missing _between_ and Gracini and Tucath were killed in a training accident. Mindina died bearing my stillborn child and Talula decided the Weyr was too much for her and took off for parts unknown. So, I've been mateless for a long while."

"I'm so sorry, J'fren," Trina said.

"Thanks, but it's been a long time ago," he replied. "Oh -- but that brings up something else -- the matter of my name. I was named Jeffren, but Nana and Pops usually called me Jeff. When I Impressed, it seemed logical to call myself J'fren. But I've found out something over the Turns: J'fren is just an honorific. The Weyrleader calls me that. It's not really who I am. I'm Jeff. That's what my wingmates call me -- that's what Shimuth usually calls me. And that's what I want you to call me. I'm just Jeff. I like that name and that's what I'm comfortable hearing. 'J'fren' sounds like you're saying 'sir' to me all the time." He smiled at her.

Trina said, "All right... Jeff. You sound like you don't like weyrlife, except for Shimuth. Why?"

He laughed ruefully. "Is it that obvious? Well, this sevenday I don't like it. Being a Wingsecond is hardly worth the ground-level weyr, some days. There are days when I just want to pack all my worldly possessions on my old boy's back and fly down here, build a hut and be a hermit."

Trina chuckled. "I know what you mean. The commotion is sometimes enough to drive me _between_. I get so tired of Weyr politics, and the gossip, and the in-fighting in the Caverns. Someone is forever going on and on about something, and it is very tiring."

"Exactly." He peered at the sun. "Getting a little late. We probably need to head back to the beach before some of the creepy-crawlies that patrol in the darkness get started."

Trina shivered. "Snakes. I hate them."

"Me too. That's why we sleep close to Shimuth. I've never seen the tunnel snake that will get anywhere close to a dragon."

"That's good to know," Trina quipped.

Shimuth was still snoring when they got back to the beach, and Jeff poked his dragon in the behind with his foot. The dragon roused sleepily and casually bowled his rider over with his tail, much to Jeff's amusement. "That's his way of getting me back for poking him in the rear," he laughed from the sand.

Trina laughed, too. Although not the biggest of the browns, Shimuth was a respectable size, and bigger than any of the blues or greens by a few lengths. That was big enough, though. Still, most of the male riders tended toward the tall side, and didn't seem so dwarfed by their beasts as Jeff did by his. It didn't seem to bother him in the least, though. He just pestered the Headwoman to give him the longest-handled brushes the queenriders used so he could clean Shimuth's hide, to compensate for his shorter reach. He didn't have to pester much, though. One of those grins was just about enough.

"Shimuth, you lazy lump of sand, go catch us a fish for supper, how about it?" Jeff said aloud.

_"For the woman, I will. Not for you, though. You poked me and called me lazy."_

Jeff howled with laughter, as he passed along the comment. Trina chuckled, too, and said, "My thanks, Shimuth, o best of brown dragons."

_"See? She appreciates me."_

Jeff just laughed some more. "Please, then, catcher of fish. Go see what's in the cove to be caught."

_"I may be hungry tomorrow,"_ Shimuth answered.

"If you are, we'll go find you some nice, juicy wherries," Jeff answered.

_"Fine."_ Shimuth waded out into the water.

"He catches the smaller fish? I would have thought dragons were too longsighted."

"He sees them pretty well, though," Jeff answered. "And usually comes back with a good one. Watch him. He did this on his own one day, and I just encouraged him from there. He's good at it." Jeff's pride in his beast was obvious.

They watched as Shimuth waded out into into deeper water and sat perfectly still, watching the water intently. The big dragon looked like a brown rock in the water. He carefully shifted his weight to three feet and raised a mammoth front foot, claws extended. It hovered over the water for a couple of minutes, then "wham!" He struck with the speed of a snake and came up with a large, wriggling fish impaled on one claw. He turned his head to his rider, with a smug look. Both Jeff and Trina burst into applause.

Jeff waded out as well, and since the water was fairly deep, simply climbed up his dragon's back and Shimuth raised his foot and ducked his head so Jeff could get hold of the fish. He sat down and Shimuth obligingly carried him back to shore.

"And that's how it's done," said Jeff. "Shell of a lot easier than baiting a sharding hook and hoping you catch something. Good one, too. A red stripe. That's fine eating." He was gutting and scaling the fish as he talked. He deftly filleted the meat and tossed the offal back into the ocean. He went to rinse the fillets in the spring. Then, walking to the edge of the trees, he cut a large leaf from a plant, and found some tubers and greens suitable for cooking. He also picked several smaller plants and cut some citrus fruit before he came back to the fire.

Trina watched interestedly as he laid the meat on the big leaf and sliced the citrus fruit on top of it, squeezing the juice over the flesh. He stripped the little plants, which Trina could now see were fresh herbs, and put the leaves over the meat, and finally took a little block of salt from a pouch and broke off a small chunk, which he crushed and sprinkled on the fish. He tied the whole thing into the leaf with strips of the same fibrous plant and put it right into the fire, raking the coals over it.

"This is my favorite way to cook fish," he explained. "You want to get the tubers and greens grilling?"

Trina nodded and set the little grill on its stand over the fire. She laid the vegetables on top and watched as they browned. Jeff raked the fish out of the coals with a stick and laid the package on the grill beside the tubers.

Trina brought out the dishes and mugs and cutlery. As Jeff turned the fish and vegetables, she poured wine and warmed the plates over the coolest part of the fire. He divided the vegetables on the plates and then speared the fish onto the cooler sand and slit the package. A heavenly aroma filled the air.

He placed a fillet on each plate, along with some of the citrus, and sliced more bread to soak up the juice. Trina tasted the fish, as Jeff watched her closely for her reaction.

"Well?"

"Oh, Jeff. It's delicious. Best fish I ever had, I promise!"

A pleased grin broke out on his face as he thanked her. They stuffed themselves and had more fruit for afters. Shimuth had arranged himself on the sand and they sat against his warm hide and watched the stars come out in the tropical sky.

They sat in silence for a time, when Jeff said, "I feel like playing my gitar. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I'd love to hear you play," she said.

Jeff went to get his gitar, in its bag he had made himself--hide on the outside, fur on the inside. He found the pick, made of herdbeast horn, and carefully tuned the instrument. He strummed some chords and began on one of the Teaching Ballads. He had a sweet, limber tenor that made easy music from the tune. Trina joined him on the chorus and saw his grin when she did so. He played the last chord and as it died, he said, "You can sing! You told me you couldn't."

"Oh, my voice isn't that good. I can carry a tune," she said.

"Not at all. You have a nice alto. It blends well with other voices. Try this one," he replied and started another song. She joined in and they sang several songs before he played some instrumentals he had written. He played very well. Trina listened in rapt enjoyment.

"Why don't you ever play for the Weyr?" she asked. "I know we would be glad to hear you."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe this is part of my life I want to keep separate. I feel the need to keep _something_ of myself separate from the Weyr. Something that's mine alone. Something that I can choose to share or not. So many of those decisions are taken from you when you Impress. I'd not trade my dragon for anything, but like everything else in life, riding a dragon has its down side, too."

"Is that how you stay sane? Playing music?" Trina asked.

"Yeah. How do you stay sane?" he said.

"I embroider a lot. And I read Records a lot."

"See, I didn't know you embroidered, too." Jeff was thinking they must have said very little in the month they had known each other, for him to know so few important things about Trina.

"I do," she was saying. "My grandmother taught me when I was six."

"Really? That's interesting. I'd never have the patience."

"I find it very soothing. I lose myself in the creativity of it," Trina said.

"Hmm. What have you done recently?" he asked.

"Well, I did a Gather dress I have yet to wear. I embroidered the hem and bodice and sleeves."

"Next Gather anywhere halfway close, and we'll go, just so I can see that dress," Jeff said.

"You'd be seen out with someone of no rank?" she said incredulously.

He looked at her strangely, as he packed up his gitar. "What does that mean?"

"Well, I would think a ranking rider would want someone more important than me to keep company with," she said.

He shook his head disgustedly. "Rank, sweeting, is a necessary evil. We've got to have some order in the world. But it means nothing to me, personally." At Trina's startled look, he grinned and continued, "I've seen blue riders who had as much leadership talent as some bronzes. And green riders _I_ would have chosen to be Weyrwoman. I know people of all ranks and crafts who are wonderful, interesting people. And I know ranking people who ought to shove _between_ for being such failures as humans. I go along with it in the Weyr because I have to and because, like I said, you've got to have some order in chaos. But I don't always agree with it, and I never let it influence my personal relationships, especially where women are concerned."

Trina laughed delightedly, "My, my, a real, dyed-in-the-Shell rebel. What a refreshing change! And I'll take you up on that Gather date."

"Good. I think I sense a little rebel under your Traditional skin, too." He laughed as she shook her head in disbelief. "Well," he continued, "to change the subject, let's clear away and bank the fire and get some sleep." They stood and cleaned the campsite. Shimuth arranged himself in a large circle and Jeff unrolled a canvas tarp and staked it up with four poles. He then spread a large sheet, blankets and pillows on the ground under it. "No safer sleep than under a dragon's protection," he said. "And the tarp keeps the dew off!"

Trina smiled at him. "I think I'd like to wash first. Do you think the spring would be safe this late?"

"Sure. It's close enough to the fire and Shimuth."

Trina took her necessaries bag and a shift and bathed quickly. Jeff played the gentleman and waited out of sight. Seeing her coming back with her brown hair undone and rippling over her shoulders and in a light shift that outlined her curves, he could feel his skin tightening over his bones. A beautiful woman who had no idea she was. Talk about your refreshing changes...

"You have beautiful hair. I don't think I've ever seen it down over your shoulders," he said.

She smiled. "Thank you. I don't wear it down much except for bed."

"I think I need to wash the sand off, myself," he said and disappeared toward the spring. When he came back, Trina was standing next to Shimuth's head, scratching his eye ridges. She spotted his rider and felt her heart turn over again. He did have his shorts on, but his body fascinated her beyond all good sense. He walked to the other side of his dragon's head and got the other eye ridge. Shimuth was thrumming with pleasure as his eyes drooped and then shut altogether. Soon, he was snoring again, although the tip of his tail was erect, a draconian sign of vigilance.

Jeff walked back around to Trina, rubbing the dragon's muzzle as he did. He took her hand and led her to the pallet on the sand.

She stepped back for a moment. "What are you expecting from me, Jeff?" she said.

"You mean physically? Not anything you're not prepared to give. I didn't bring you here for that. I could have gotten that in the Weyr. I wanted to get to know you, away from all the eyes of the Weyr, and free of distractions and demands on our time. This seemed like a perfect opportunity."

"It was and I'm glad to be here. Does the difference in our ages bother you?"

"Not at all. You?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I'm still pretty spry," he teased. "If that had you worried."

"No, but it's a consideration."

"A small one," he replied, and finally, finally, took Trina in his arms. Their first real kiss was sweet and tender and hot, all at the same time. Trina found herself completely melting in his embrace, feeling like she was floating on her back in the ocean once again.

"Oh, you are sweet," he murmured against her lips and drew her down to the pallet. Her arms slipped around him as he touched her, setting her blood to liquid fire. They loved each other in the moonlight, and as he snuggled her sated body to sleep under the blankets, Jeff wondered if he hadn't finally come home.

Trina cuddled next to her lover, and realized that the few other encounters she'd had were just with fumbling boys who had no idea what they were doing. A man had loved her this night, and she knew why those women wanted be the one he slept with. No man could have been more considerate, or more passionate. She fell asleep -- truly happy and content for the first time in a long, long while.

A soft kiss and Jeff's voice woke her. "Wake up, sleepyhead. I've got breakfast ready and Shimuth is starting to feel a little empty, he tells me."

She opened her eyes and saw him lying on the sheet next to her, smiling. He kissed her again and nuzzled her hair. "I'd better stop this, or my dragon is going to have to wait a while for his meal," he said.

Trina sat up and yawned and stretched. She walked to the fire, where Jeff had klah, bread and fruit ready. They ate and dressed, without saying much, but looking at each other a good deal, as Shimuth paced hungrily.

"All right, large one, let me just get a blanket for us to sit on while you hunt and we will go." Shimuth rumbled with a little irritation, but sat still long enough for his rider and Trina to mount. They took off and Jeff directed his dragon to a grassy plain where he had hunted him before. A rock ledge made a good vantage point for Shimuth's hunt.

Shimuth agreed with Jeff in thinking wherry a good dinner choice and spotting the flock, struck quickly and brought down a big male. The dragon carried the bird to the plain and began on it greedily.

"He really _was_ hungry," Trina said.

Jeff laughed. "Don't let him fool you. He'd eat every day if he could. But he probably was genuinely hungry today."

Shimuth ate three more birds when Jeff told him he'd had quite enough. There was a pause and Jeff broke out laughing.

"What is it?" Trina said.

"I told him he'd eaten enough and he didn't answer, so I repeated myself." He started chuckling again.

"What did Shimuth say?"

"He belched -- loudly. What a character!"

Trina laughed. "He is, indeed."

Having eaten, Shimuth launched himself up to the ledge where Jeff and Trina sat and proffered a foreleg to her.

"He's ready to go back, have a nap and then another swim," Jeff said, chuckling.

They flew back to the campsite, and Shimuth immediately collapsed in his wallow, snoring.

Lunch was bread and roast tubers, and then they decided to imitate the dragon and napped under a large shade tree.

Midafternoon found them swimming, with Trina's confidence improving under Jeff's watchful eye. They started a splash fight, sending walls of water over each other's heads, when Shimuth settled the question with a well-placed splash from his tail that half-drowned both Trina and Jeff. They came up, spluttering.

Jeff was laughing and coughing. "Never," he said "have a splash fight with a dragon. They win every time."

_"We win most things every time,"_ came Shimuth's smug comment, causing Jeff to groan.

Jeff felt like playing his gitar again that night, and this time, produced a tinwhistle out of his gitar bag and tossed it to Trina. "Can you play one?" he asked.

"The Hold Harper taught me the basics, but it's been a long, long time ago," she said.

After a short refresher course and several false starts, they played together on a simple children's song. Trina finished the last note with a grin. "I didn't realize you were so musical," Jeff said. "And I'll bet you didn't, either."

Trina shook her head. "No, never. But I've always loved music -- just didn't think I had any talent for it."

"Well you do. You've got a good ear and that's vital." They played several other pieces, until Trina laughed and said her lip was numb.

"I enjoy playing with someone," Jeff said. "Usually it's just me and Shimuth."

"I enjoyed it, too. It's nice to have a friend," rejoined Trina.

Jeff's eyes turned dark with compassion and he took her hand. "You don't have any friends among the women?" he asked.

"Not really. They never really have accepted me. I was a Candidate for so long, and then sort of ended up there, for lack of any other place." Her voice was quiet.

"That's hard to believe. You're such a friendly, intelligent woman." And he stopped. "That's it. Your intelligence?"

Trina nodded. "But I'm used to it. When I was in classes with the Holder children, they laughed at me for using big words and about my weight. And Ma stayed on me about it all the time, too. She despised me because I was so much quicker-witted than my brothers. She couldn't stand it that I was better than they were in something. Pa told me some women are just like that about their boys. So that's the way it was."

"Would the Harpers take you back as an archivist?"

"I don't know. I might be too old, now. I don't seem to fit in anywhere I am. Maybe I'll take up with the Traders." She laughed.

Jeff chuckled, "They'd take you in." Then he turned serious. "Well, you have a friend now. Make that two, since Shimuth wholly approves of you. And I have to tell you: if you want it -- if you want me -- you have a weyrmate."

Trina was stunned. "A weyrmate? But we haven't known each other that long!"

"Long enough for me. Trina, sweeting, I'm 43. I've been down this runner trail before, and I know when it's working. This is working. But you don't have to give me an answer right now. Think about it, if you need to." He drew her close and put an arm around her shoulders.

Trina was quiet for a time. She thought about her room at the Lower Caverns, and going to it alone every night. About being somewhere she was liked and welcome -- even if it were temporary. About seeing a friendly face at breakfast every morning, instead of the chronic complainers. About being loved and wanted. Even if it didn't last a Turn, it would be wonderful while it did last.

She looked at Jeff, whose face was solemn in the firelight. "Jeff, I would love to be your weyrmate," she said softly.

He turned to her, with a thankful look. "You're certain?"

"Yes."

He folded her in his arms and kissed her. "Thank you, Trina. Thank you. I'm a good weyrmate, I promise you."

"I know you are, love. I know you are."

Their kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, and Jeff lowered Trina to the sand where their bed was made. As they loved each other, Jeff could feel Trina giving herself utterly to him, heart, soul and mind. He tried to show her he was giving the same to her. It was the sweetest moment he'd ever shared with a woman.


	3. Chapter 3: Let's Give Them Something

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or operate Pern.

**Chapter 3: Let's Give Them Something to Talk About**

The first thing Jeff and Trina did when they got back the Weyr was land in front of the entrance to the Lower Caverns so Trina could move her things. Several of the women were astonished when they saw J'fren land his brown there and kiss Trina in full view. She slid off the dragon's back and they were even more taken aback when they heard him say, "Let me go to the weyr and unload this stuff and talk to my Wingleader. You pack and shout for Shimuth when you're ready for me to come back to help you. He knows to listen for you."

"All right," she said. And to the dragon, "My thanks for a smooth flight, dear Shimuth."

_"You are most welcome,"_ the brown returned, to Trina's delight. She walked in as dragon and rider went to their own weyr.

As Trina went to her room, Dunan caught her, "So what's up with you and J'fren?" she asked.

Trina smiled and blushed. "You'll have to ask him," she answered.

"He said something about you packing and he would come to get you. You're weyrmating him?" Dunan demanded.

Trina's smile widened and she said, "Just ask him. He'll be back soon enough."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "How in Faranth's name did _you_ catch him? And where did you two go, anyway? No one seemed to know."

"You need to talk to J'fren. Anything he wants you to know, he'll tell you. Meanwhile, I have some packing to do," Trina sweetly answered.

Dunan let her go, a stunned look on her face. The gossip spread faster than flits could carry it: the Lower Caverns misfit, the know-all who never seemed to have any friends, was weyrmated with one of the more eligible riders in the Weyr. It was past believing.

A small crowd had gathered when Trina had her things ready to move. She said out loud, "Shimuth, do you hear me?"

_"I hear,"_ came his deep voice in her mind.

"I'm ready now," she said.

_"Jeff comes,"_ was the answer.

Trina moved her few things to the cavern entrance: bedding, the clothing in her trunk, her sewing goods.

In a few minutes, J'fren came into the Caverns, grinning at Trina. "Is this it?" he said.

She nodded and a shadow crossed his face, as if before now, he hadn't realized how truly alone she was. "Fine then. Let's get it moved."

Trina walked out with her furs and tied them down to her trunk. Two of the women started to grab a handle to assist and J'fren stopped them. "No need," he said. "You never gave a thought for her when she lived down here. I'm her weyrmate and I'll see to it." His tone was solid ice. He motioned to one of the riders nearby, who was a wingmate, and together, they hauled the trunk abck to the Wingsecond's weyr.

Trina followed with her sewing box and a few subdries and thanked the other rider for his help. As they settled into his--their -- weyr, she said, "Was that necessary?"

"I thought it was," he replied. "I'd say more, but I'll control myself."

The women watched as J'fren and his new weyrmate went to their weyr, and muttered angrily among themselves. The Headwoman observed the whole scene and said to a few of them, "Well, I don't know what under the sun you _expected_ J'fren to do. He's not stupid and he knows how some of you lot treated that girl. You're lucky he didn't give you the rough side of his tongue. I've heard him do it -- not something you want directed at you." She turned and walked away.

It hadn't been difficult to convince Jeff's Wingleader that a new weyrmate was what he needed. While Trina was packing, Jeff had a word with him. "I'm all for it, Jeff," R'shad said. "You've been sharding lonely and she seems a nice girl. Always has a smile for you. She's attractive enough, and young enough for children, if you want it."

"Maybe in a while," Jeff said.

"Well, if you were looking for my approval, you have it," he replied.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," said his Wingleader, who was even more pleased than he let on. A weyrmate could only be a good thing for his Wingsecond.

Trina had never had the occasion to visit anyone in a ground-level weyr before. She'd never even cleaned one -- had hardly walked past one. She looked all around at the spacious rooms. "The whole cot where I grew up wasn't much bigger than this," she said.

He laughed as he helped spread out her things around their weyr, and it looked more like home. A little foresight on his part had them a meal ready -- just bread, cheese, stew and the day's sweet -- but enough. They ate and seeing Trina looking ready to drop, and knowing he had to fight Thread the next day, Jeff suggested they turn in and she gratefully agreed. They made up the bed with all the bedding, making it much more comfortable.

She shyly came out in her night shift and Jeff, already in bed, patted the space beside him invitingly. "Come on, love. I can tell you're just about asleep on your feet." Trina lay down, and Jeff closed the glowbasket beside the bed and cuddled her against his body.

"Now then," he said. "This is more like it. Good night, dear one. He kissed her and gave a pleased murmur as she responded and returned his kiss. "If you weren't so worn out.." he said. "But plenty of time for that." They slept deeply, both hearts at peace.


End file.
